Ghostflame
The Undeath Resplendent was an ancient ship. Its planks had been wrought from Leylinden trees an age and a half ago, and they remembered countless battles no living thing did. It had born a multitude of names, sailed various planes of existence and served many masters. Three hundred and fifty-seven years ago, the Lich Cazaron had taken possession of it after wiping out the previous owner's bloodline. Since then, it had anchored in the eastern sea south of Dambrath, deserted. Its hideaway the open sea far from any trade route, it had awaited its next voyage in silent anticipation. With the return of the Mosaic Sea to the Material Plane, Cazaron had decided to claim another prize. He had repopulated the decks with legions of undead and set sail. All this information flowed into Fuegan's mind. The scroll in his gloved hands softly disintegrated, dissolving into nothing more than residue strands of weave returning to their original form. The Undeath Resplendent glided thro...